


1991

by navystone



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Slightly evil Tom, Slow Build, Though Tom is still very much Voldemort-- with a different fate, Tom Riddle is Not Voldemort, alternate dimensions but original dimension will be mentioned, different dimension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-06 05:33:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17339498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/navystone/pseuds/navystone
Summary: Tom (Marvolo) Riddle Jr, born in 31st December 1979, son of a Gaunt and a particular Riddle.Or, an AU where Tom is in Harry’s year, but their destiny still remains the same. (Not Really)





	1. Brief

 

_Disgusting,_ Tom thought to himself as he brushed off the dust from a worn out uniform in Second-Hand Robes. Despite growing in a filthy, poor orphanage, Tom had an intense knack for cleanliness and was always irritated when it comes to topics of dirt. He despised the orphanage children for many reasons, and one of the reasons which stood out would be their dirt tolerance. Simply watching them makes Tom’s skin crawl, he would shoot a piercing glare at them, feeling his anger build, hoping his ‘freak accidents’ would trigger. Unfortunately, nobody took notice. Or, nobody cared of an opinion from a freak like him. Although the ‘freak accidents’ did occur several times under his control.

Tom looked into the mirror and decided that this robe was the least filthiest from all the robes he tried on. He attempted to suppress his erratic abhorrence as he was grateful enough for an opportunity to escape the hells of his orphanage for most of the upcoming 7 years, he held his breath as he slipped out of the uniform, not intending for any germs to come in contact with his lungs, and exhaled while he puts his clothes back on.

He placed the money in front of a bored attendant and nodded as thanks. The wizard simply ignored the boy and Tom left.

As he walked out, he watched a family of distinct red-heads walk towards Second-Hand Robes, he observed how the elder woman, presumably the mother, scolded a young boy most likely due to his wet shirt. He probably spilled something on it. The woman muttered something under her breath and pointed her wand at her boy, and his shirt immediately dried off. _Cleaning_ spell, Tom assumed. His eyes vaguely widened by the revelation of such spell, he imagined future days where he wouldn’t have to scrub dirt off the repulsive orphanage bathroom floor, which always led to him gagging from the mere smell of it. How the wizards are much more advanced than the non magic, Tom denoted.

Viewing his checklist once again, Tom was satisfied to complete his shopping in such a short time. It was easy for him to navigate areas, nothing really bothered him much, aside from the odd looks he obtained from several people. Tom knew that they were definitely looking down on him, a disheveled boy wearing visibly old and dusty clothing, strolling alone, parentless. He despised this feeling, but decided to patiently wait for the day where everyone would look at him in a completely opposite way.

Noticing that Tom still had a few galleons left, he contemplated on where he could allocate the money. Either he could save it for future purposes, or maybe he could visit some pet stores he didn’t think of, as he assumed that his budget wasn’t enough. The list didn’t specify _why_ he required a pet, but if it is in the list, Tom assumed that it would be important.

Heading towards Magical Menagerie, Tom glanced at the displayed pets. The first creature he saw were toads. 

_Definitely not, disgusting,_

 Who would even keep toads as pets? Tom pondered. Slimy creatures they are.

 “Uncle Algie! Is that actually for me?” Tom looked back and saw a chubby, round faced blonde, most likely his age, viewing the toad as if it’s the most expensive gold existing. Such naivety, Tom noted. It’s just an ugly toad, dirt colored with boils around its skin, why does he look so happy?

“All yours boy, you deserve it now that you proved us that the Longbottom heir isn’t a measly squib.” 

What was a _squib?_

“Now uncle Algie, we knew that Neville is not a squib. And even if he is so, we’re all still going to love him very much nonetheless.” Said a kind faced lady, her jaw and nose an exact replica of the boy’s. The man, Algie, muttered a gruff “hmph” in response while Neville continued looking awestruck with his new (ugly) pet. 

“Thank you so much uncle! He’s… Trevor now” the boy stroked the toad’s skin. Tom shivered. 

The family walked out with small praises, “That's a grown up name”, “a good start for your Hogwarts year”, they were peculiar, Tom thought. But then again all wizards are, despite looking similar and acquiring similar morals, the wizards’ behavior were much more eccentric. Though it could be said the other way around if it was in the wizards’ point of view. 

From the two hours he spent in Diagon Alley, Tom’s newly found hobby would be observing the wizarding world. He was fascinated. Everything that he assumed were impossible is proved to exist here, he was astounded. Everything seems to be much better here compared to the gloomy, non magic world, he was ready to give up everything to live here permanently. Not that he had much to give up.

 

_Cats_ , Tom liked cats. 

 

Those delicate felines, potentially dangerous as they hold so much classy aggression in them, Tom liked them very much. While strolling outside the orphanage Tom would spend hours playing with stray cats he found, they were much better company than the children around him. They were hasty, but obedient, or at least they began to obey him after several weeks of visiting them. They were pretty creatures.

He set his eyes on a small black kitten, resting in a certain spot where the sunlight hits. The kitten was small, probably lazy, and not much of a hassle (unlike the strays he used to play with), this kitten wouldn’t interfere his studies much, Tom decided.

“Excuse me Mister, may I ask how much this black kitten costs?” Tom asked a working man politely. (He had sworn to himself to be as polite as possible, in order to avoid the same looks obtained from headmaster Dumbledore)

“Why it would be nine galleons” 

Tom felt his heart sink in disappointment. He was a galleon short. If this seemingly bland cat costed 9 galleons, the other cats would be much more expensive.

“Oh I’m sorry, I don’t have enough, thank you for your time Mister.” Tom said and smiled at the man. The man responded with a nod and a sympathetic smile. 

Nevertheless, Tom could search for owls. Maybe they were lesser costly, though Tom doubted it. So he headed towards Eeylops Owl Emporium.

Oddly, the interior here was much more grand compared to Magical Menagerie. The owls, Tom had to admit, looked beautiful. They were majestic, he probably couldn’t afford these owls, but it didn’t hurt passing time by observing these creatures.

One owl caught his eye. It was white, pure white, a snowy owl. 

Unfortunately, he was 6 galleons short. These owls were even more expensive than the cats and toads in the other pet store. But it didn’t stop him from appreciating its beauty, how Tom wished that he had enough to buy this owl.

“Hello, were you planning to buy that?” Tom’s train of thought was interrupted by a boy’s voice, coming from his left. 

The boy was wearing round-framed specs, his face seemed very _soft_ and young. Unlike the other boy Tom encountered, this boy’s naivety appeared to be blended with wits. Though the prominent feature from the boy would be his unruly black hair, and his striking green eyes.

_Why can’t he comb it?_ Tom thought. Tom had always looked after his appearance, he had to somehow cope with the shabby clothes he was provided with.

“No, I’m wasn’t, you can have it if you want” Tom responded blandly.

“Are you sure…? If you want it you can buy it, that’s alright with me, I can find another owl.” 

Tom raised his eyebrow. This boy assumed that Tom responded coldly because he thought that Tom wanted the owl. 

“Its fine, I was actually planning to buy a cat. You can take it, I don’t mind, don’t worry about it. You seem like you really want this owl, I don’t want to take it away from you.” Tom offered sweetly. The boy didn’t know that Tom wasn’t buying it due to the lack of funds, Tom could play out the role of a saint a bit. 

“Oh.. T-thank you so much,” the boy gave a smile. “I’m Harry by the ways, Harry Potter. I’m starting Hogwarts this year” Harry extended his hand.

 Tom took his hand and shook.

_A new friend_

“Tom Riddle. I’m also starting my first year at September” 

“Really? That’s great then! Are you excited?”

“I’m not really sure, I’m somewhat new here” Tom admitted. 

“Oh, you’re a muggleborn then?” 

Muggleborn… If Tom wasn’t wrong, that was the term to describe the non magical people with magical abilities. Maybe that was Tom’s blood status? He wasn’t sure. He was raised in an orphanage after all, with no memory of his parents.

“I think so. I don’t really know, I grew up in an orphanage.” 

Before the boy—Harry could respond, a faint “Harry!” Was heard from the outside, two adults—Harry’s parents ran inside, looking notably worried. Harry probably wandered off.

“Harry, where were you? We were worried sick, we thought we lost you” the woman with red hair said. Tom wondered if this woman by any chance was related to the family he saw before, but settled with the thought that she probably wasn’t. Her hair was darker and her eyes— how it stood out so much.

Tom looked at the man, Harry's father. He looked like an aged up version of Harry, without the green almond-shaped eyes Harry possessed.

“I’m fine ma, I was just looking at the owls here. Can we buy this one? Tom here let me have it, even though he came here first.” 

Tom was amused by his newly gained righteous persona. How easy it was to obtain it.

“Oh is that right? Thank you Tom” Mrs. Potter said and gave Tom a smile, parallel to Harry’s beforehand.

“I didn’t do anything Mrs. Potter, I really don’t mind.” Tom said and offered her the same smile she provided.

“What manners you have,” Mrs. Potter said fondly and patted Harry in the back, gesturing him to move while bringing the owl to the cashier.

“You’ve already made a new friend Harry, Hogwarts would be the best time of your life. I met uncle Sirius in Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour when I first went shopping in Diagon Alley for school supplies too, now say goodbye to Tom and let’s go” Mr. Potter instructed Harry.

“Okay, Bye Tom! I’ll see you in Hogwarts express!” Harry cheerfully bid his goodbyes. 

“Goodbye Harry, I’ll see you soon too.”  

Tom couldn’t wait for 1st September. 

 


	2. Vulnerable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom arrives in Hogwarts, slightly clueless and vulnerable.

Though Tomhad expected a magic-oriented train, he found himself sitting on a very much muggle train on the way to Hogwarts. 

The train did not live up to the journey of finding platform nine and three-quarters, how he arrived especially early (8am), so he had to wait an hour or so to find out _how_ he was supposed to reach Hogwarts Express— which was mimicking the other supposed wizard’s actions, running through a brick wall. Tom had to admit—he was slightly nervous, but he should’ve known better not to be, and trust the whole wizarding world. Nothing has failed him so far, not even the boring, common train he was boarding.

Tom opened up The Standard Book of Spells and searched for his bookmarked page, he had spent his whole August locked up in his room, reading the textbooks provided. It was fascinating, Tom had always compared what was inside to fantasy-genre books Mrs.Cole used to give him to pass time (or to keep him away from trouble)— so he was unable to find the textbooks _boring._ Though regardless, Tom never really found studies-related topics to be boring.

Viewing the odd trinket Tom took (which he ‘took’ _after_ Dumbledore appeared, so he wouldn’t know that he did not _return it_ ) and kept as a bookmark, Tom picked up his wand, finally able to cast the spells he had been reading of.

As expected, Tom was able to cast the _Lumos_ spell perfectly. This was the first spell he casted (waving his wand in Ollivander’s does not count), he didn’t know how to describe the moment, but the only thing he felt was _special_. He knew that he shouldn’t feel that way, since everyone else on board with him was able to cast spells, but he still does. Perhaps he felt significantly powerful for being able to cast a spell this early, without guidance? He only felt… Potent holding his wand. 

“Hello! Is anyone sitting here?” 

Tom’s moment of contemplating his thoughts was interrupted, and he was beyond annoyed.

He looked up to see a curly haired boy peering his head into the ajar door. 

“ Yes. They’re going to the food trolley for a while.” Tom lied flawlessly. (Though his tone was tinged with a jab)

“Oh—Alright then, sorry for that” the boy looked somewhat disappointed, but he did not suspect Tom one bit. Typical. 

After the small intrusion, Tom’s mind wandered off to a particular someone he had forgotten. Harry Potter, the boy he accidentally befriended in Diagon Alley. They settled on an unofficial agreement on meeting in Hogwarts Express, but neither met one another. Tom wondered if he should put an effort in searching for the boy, since he was the first mutual Tom has who doesn’t _hate_ him, and that was decent for a change. He was also a full-fledged wizard, as his father implied that he went to Hogwarts. 

But did Tom really need him? He would just be a distraction for Tom. Or worse, he could end up like those orphanage children who doesn’t seem that bad in front of Tom, but would spread atrocious rumors about him. Tom doesn’t need anyone anyway. He was able to find Diagon Alley himself, reach Hogwarts express without any guidance. He was definitely able to navigate his way throughout Hogwarts and the whole wizarding community in general (he read A History Of Magic anyway, he’d know enough). And so, Tom decided that it was for the best, to not search for Harry.

In another compartment, the unruly haired boy started a new friendship with a certain Weasley, having unable to find Tom.

 

———————————————————————-

 

Throughout the sorting hat song, Tom could not understand what the most of the lyrics meant, but he could comprehend that the students were being sorted somewhere according to their personalities.

“ _You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their darling, nerve, and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart”_  

Tom knew that it wasn’t for him. It wasn’t like Tom did not see himself as _brave_ , but the house simply did not appeal to him. He suspected that the people sorted in there were very much like his orphanage friends—loud, shameless, _nauseating_.

“ _You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil;”_

_Hardworking servants_ , Tom noted. Not this house either, he did not want to be equated to potential _followers._

“ _Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you’ve a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;”_

_Finally, a decent house_ , Tom thought. He classified himself as an intelligent person, therefore it would be reasonable if he was to be sorted in an intelligent community.

_“Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You’ll make real your friends_

_Those cunning folks use any means_

_To achieve their ends”_

Slytherin wouldn’t be a bad place either for Tom. Though he did not understand what was stated much, he could figure out that the people in Slytherin would do anything to achieve a goal set. 

“Abbott, Hannah!” Professor McGonagall called out. The girl went up and the sorting hat was placed on her head.

A pause.

“HUFFLEPUFF!” 

“Bones, Susan!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Boot, Terry!” 

“Ravenclaw!”

Tom noted how the sorting hat took some time to decide on the houses. He could see the hat open its mouth slightly to say a few words, Tom wondered if the hat would point out his far from righteous habits. 

“Potter, Harry!”

Finally, a name which Tom actually had modest care about. Unlike the other people, the sorting hat took an awfully long time to decide where to sort him. After five minutes or so, the sorting hat declared,

“GRYFFINDOR!”

And Tom was content on being unbothered to search for him. No trace of negligible regret was left.

“Riddle, Tom!”

Nobody really had their eyes set on him—Tom noticed. Along with Granger, Flinch-Fletchley and several other students, the crowd seemed to resume chattering. Though they had all their reasons to not care, Tom was somewhat annoyed by their disrespect. But who was Tom for them to respect? 

“ _So you’ve already decided where to go”_ Tom inhaled faintly in shock. (He did not want to gasp) 

“ _It has been some time since your blood arrived here. Not only is it in your blood… It’s clearly inside of your head. You will find greatness in Slytherin,_ SLYTHERIN!” The hat announced. 

Instead of the usual cheering and applause, the Slytherin table emerged a handful of polite claps. Every face looked disinterested or appalled. He noticed several people whispering with one another, but nevertheless, he still walked towards the Slytherin table and took a seat at the empty, far edge. 

“What’s this? We got ourselves a blood traitor in Slytherin. Or worse, a filthy mudblood”  

Tom glanced at the blonde boy jabbing words he wasn’t aware of to him, but he knew enough that those were not _nice_ words. 

“So tell me, are you a blood traitor or a mudblood?” The boy asked mockingly, with an arrogant smile plastered on his face. 

Tom did not understand what he meant. He was lost. 

“What’s your problem if I’m either of them?” Tom retorted. But it was in vain, as he only obtained a series of laughter in response.  

“Impossible. A mudblood. In Slytherin?” the boy rhetorically asked in a series of laughter. “Wait till father hears of this embarrassment from Hogwarts” 

Tom did not know what a mudblood was, and he was intent on finding out. Not from these people though, he had already grew a strong hatred towards the boy. And everybody else laughing at him. Unfortunately, in here, Tom wasn’t special. He couldn’t randomly have them lit on fire. Dumbledore did mention several rules, and if he did so, he knew that every student or staff here would know how to counter it.

Fortunately, everyone began to ignore him. He knew that he had an awful impulse control and would _actually_ lit them on fire, though that would lead to unwanted circumstances. He decided that he would end up sticking to himself, just as he did in the orphanage. 

As if on cue, the dishes in front of Tom were filled with food Tom had never expected to encounter, let alone _consume_ , in his life. It was as if the world was finally aligning with Tom’s desires. But as Tom began to eat, he noticed his other house mates’ antics. It reminded him of the day when a philanthropist came to visit his orphanage, and while every other children were eating very… _savagely,_ that man sat upright, a whole atmosphere of elegance was deployed from him. Tom knew that he was on that same level. Regrettably, that man only appeared for a day (probably repelled from the children’s behaviour), and never returned. So Tom was only able to copy his actions for a bit, at least he learnt general manners the other children did not.

Despite his best efforts, he still obtained numerous degrading glances from his peers. He ignored them, reminding himself that those looks will completely stop one day.

Throughout the dinner course, Tom was greeted with eccentric creatures here and there. The Bloody Baron, and from what he gathered through eavesdropping, Hogwarts is apparently a school with many mysteries. He made a mental checklist on what to find out once school begins, and most of that checklist revolves around him spending hours in the library. Though Unlike the other ghosts, Tom noticed that the Bloody Baron was cold. Occasionally eyeing the ghost in the Ravenclaw table. There must be something into that.

After Dumbledore had dismissed the students to the dorms, the Slytherins were to follow the prefect into the dungeons. Tom was significantly tired, he ate (though not much), and did not rest at all in the train. But even so, Tom had to keep his guard up. He wanted to know and understand this area, so he forced himself to stay away from the clouds forming in his head, threatening him to drowsiness.  

“Resoluteness” The prefect said in front of a stone wall, unsurprisingly, the door slid aside to reveal a hole leading into a room. 

The prefect directed the girls to the left side of the common room, while the males takes the right side. Tom could hear the blonde boy whispering about the idea of sharing a room and a house with a ‘filthy mudblood’, but Tom was more confused by the fact that the boy was not even bothered about the location of the Slytherin dorms, in the dungeons, below a lake. That was degrading enough, yet the boy was convinced that he was in the most prestigious area existing. Priorities were odd, Tom thought. 

As obscure as the common room was, Tom understood why people like that blonde boy were content for sorted in here. It was grand, the lights lit up with a green tone, it was furnished with expensive gothic furnitures which seemed to derive from centuries ago. Everything about this room screamed luxurious. It probably has a distinct reputation, Tom made another mental note to research about this house.

As Tom set up his trunk, all his dormmates were fast asleep. They were probably as exhausted as Tom was, but Tom did not prefer to begin class unprepared the next day. He sorted all his clothes, prepared his books, looked at his surroundings for caution, and once he was satisfied, then, he allowed himself to let his body take over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's somewhat hard to characterize Tom (not somewhat--it's VERY hard), especially Tom who doesn't know much about the wizarding world. I assume if he doesn't have enough money in diagon alley, he wouldn't buy extra books (unlike Hermoine who did), but if he should know something and I accidentally stated that he doesn't know, please tell me! Thank you! And accompanying that, Tom is also still an 11 year old boy...
> 
>  
> 
> Sorry this was a boring chapter, I'll get to the point soon!


	3. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom's up to something.

Chapter 3

 

The first few week of Hogwarts went smoother than Tom had expected. The only irrelevant disturbance he had would derive from his roommates, but otherwise, Tom had been enjoying Hogwarts.

Tom had researched and discovered the origins of ‘mudblood’, a racial slur for muggleborn wizards. Tom despised that. He was associated with such a lowly figure (as what his roommates stated), but he did arrive from an orphanage, he had a slight bit of hope considering his blood heritage. Maybe he was a half-blood, or an abandoned pure-blood, but all he knew was that his mother died during birth. He also found out that barely any muggleborns were ever sorted into Slytherin, so there are so many reasons to prove that he is _not_ a muggleborn. That thought is what kept his sanity still. He did not want to be a part of such a horrid community, considering the people around him in the muggle world.

He eavesdropped several mocking of his hand-me-down robes (and hand-me-down everything), blood heritage, surname, apparent stupidity, Tom swore to never forget the exact same words they said. He loathed those words. It was utterly degrading, and Tom loathed most to be degraded. To add onto that, he was defenseless. He was unable to attack them, authorities seemed extremely strict around Hogwarts. Hence, he postponed the idea of getting back at them. They weren’t his main concern, he wouldn’t forget what they said, but he has to first focus on his academics and general presentation, then, after he learnt enough, he could do something.

HIs teachers unexpectedly liked him so far. He was always used to the higher ups showing quite an amount of distaste towards him, but his teachers were genuinely nice to him. Probably due to him answering every question they ask, he found out that he actually _liked_ the attention they were giving him. He had always assumed that he was a generally withdrawn person, but only recently he discovered a growing need to stand out.

And so, Tom spent most of his days attempting to read every book in the library. It was quiet, no one took notice of him (it was easy for him to gain updates on Hogwart’s gossips as people ignored his presence and easily spoke). His roommates barely sees him in the common room, Tom assumed that they grew to forget him. Which he didn’t mind at all, he wanted to stage an appearance in his academics, not in a useless social circle.

Hogwarts was a continuous cycle Tom did not mind. It was only wake up, eat, go to classes, stay in the library till 10 minutes are left for curfew, sleep, then repeat.

On a seemingly uneventful Saturday, Tom experienced an intrusion in his schedule. There was no space available in his unofficial timetable for _any_ interactions with people. Yet here Harry was, asking how he is. 

“I’m alright.” Tom responded dryly, not looking up from his re-reading session of Hogwarts History (he wanted to know what lays in each walls in Hogwarts)

“How are classes so far? When we had charms with Professor Flitwick you were the first who could do _wingardium leviosa,_ that’s very impressive.” 

“Thank you”, Tom responded dryly once again. 

“Hermoine was really disappointed though, she wanted to cast it first to impress Professor Flitwick.” 

Tom did not understand why Harry didn’t realize that Tom only opted for a small talk. Yet in Eeyelops Harry completely misinterpreted Tom’s tone to be of annoyance. Tom registered that Harry was a somewhat daft person—albeit being overall smart in his academics (as far as Tom had seen). Though instead of replying with a simple nod, Tom closed his book.

“I’ve been reading for the past few months actually,” _so obviously I’m good at it_.

“Oh, you’re just like Hermoine!” Tom had to fight to hide his disgust from being compared to a muggleborn. Not only that, an insufferable muggleborn who had no slightest bit of shame.

“How are you coping with Hogwarts? It must be new for you, if you came from the muggle world and all, but it’s not that different is it?

“I’m fine. I’ve read and understood Hogwarts enough.”

“That’s good to know. I’ll be taking my leave now, see you in class,” Harry bid farewell awkwardly. He finally caught up on Tom’s atmosphere, and left for good. Though Tom had this odd feeling that Harry was not be the type to let go something he intended to do. Tom brushed it off though, not knowing or caring for any reasons on why Harry immediately left.

 

——————————

 

Tom M. Riddle’s favorite subject so far was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Though he was incredibly let down at the professor’s state of condition (who would hire this guy?), he found the idea of a class where they could actually execute several defenses (or offenses) to be greatly entertaining. Sure, charms exist, but as much as Tom was interested in learning domestic spells for his daily life, he was more intrigued in classes which gives him a glimpse of how the wizarding world is in reality like. Were the issues of dark arts too much to the point where there is a specific class for it?

Maybe so, Tom read about the tales of Grindelwald and his headmaster’s legendary duel with him, but so far, no dark wizard like Grindelwald had been surfacing. There were followers here and there, but the ‘wizard police’, the Aurors, easily took care of them. 

Though Instead of listening to Professor Quirrell stutter and jumble up his words in DADA, Tom’s learning methods leaned towards the… practical aspect of the class. Except he did not carry out the practical aspect _in_ the class. 

“Whoa _what_!” Yelled Justin Finch-Fletchley as he was walking into the great hall alongside Hufflepuff’s form of the golden trio (an unofficial name to denote Harry, Ron and Hermoine’s friendship as those three were very gifted in studies— maybe not, only Hermoine was), then suddenly felt a sharp force on his chest, pushing him several feet back. 

“Justin! Are you alright?!” Hannah Abbott immediately bent down to help Finch-Fletchley onto his feet, and Ernie Macmillan did so too after taking a glance at the great hall, finding the culprit which caused this,

“I’m fine but— what was _that!”_ Exclaimed Finch-Fletchley, standing up, blushing in embarrassment due to the unexpected attack. 

A few Hufflepuff students rushed to Finch-Fletchley’s aid, ( _of course_ ), most were questioning who the offender was, but neither had a clue. The teachers didn’t notice the sudden attack on Justin, other houses didn’t care much, and there were no suspicions as Finch-Fletchley barely had any enemies.

No one would expect withdrawn, quiet, Tom Riddle who was walking into the great hall coincidentally the same time those three did. 

Ever since event, Tom was starting to realize Hogwarts’ lack of security. He should’ve realized it sooner, starting from peeves, who was allowed to hex and jinx students any time they want. There were not many teachers, and it was, a very, very, large school. There were rumors of Dumbledore being completely aware of whatever’s going on, but Tom discarded that rumor. Dumbledore was a busy man, he wouldn’t spend his time spying on Hogwarts’s students.

It went on and on. Peeves was blamed, (though it was not very hesitant to take that blame), but Tom could hear Peeves muttering to himself, questioning who was the troublemaker around Hogwarts who wasn’t himself. People were spreading rumors about an evil spirit or ghost somehow made it’s way into Hogwarts, but after thorough inspection, the professors were unable to find a trace of any evil forces. But even so, the students were still convinced about a now extremely powerful spirit loitering around Hogwarts. Several friendships were broken, people built enemies, but no one expected Tom to be under all this.

It was easier than expected. He never required wands to control his magic growing up, he was able to generate _actual_ spells wandless, and with his wand now, he was far more in control— hence he was far more powerful. He had to simply hold his wand very discreetly under his robes, focus on his victim, and execute some hand movements. At one point or another the targets may vary, but as time went by with Tom practicing this habit, his jinxes became far more refined and professional. His spells became completely controlled under him, and he did not need his wand for extra concentration.

Tom too, was smart enough to target the most random choices. Well, he was doing all this not due to any form of malice, just to gain knowledge (and power). He didn’t carefully pick out any people he had strained relationships with, but after getting away with numerous ‘pranks’, Tom contemplated targeting his roommates. He was aware of their aristocratic status, and that he may get into large trouble if he was to be found out. But Tom placed down the idea, and as always, he postponed the idea till he gained enough resources. Tom was satisfied by the fact that he was already able to rebel against the supposed strict authorities in Hogwarts. Baby steps were needed after all.

After a month or so, the Professors were beginning to take things into matter considering the growing number of strange attacks. Tom overheard rumors about the meetings between the Professors’, how they were attempting to find any possible student who was able to undergo wandless magic— because if a wand was actually utilized there would be several witnesses to a student pointing their wands at the target, but Tom didn’t need to. He only used his wand to accumulate his magic, but he had to simply look at his target and perform some hand movements. After a few weeks passing by with incidents around, professors kept a close eye under students entering the great hall. Tom had to revert to fully wandless magic. All their suspicions were very possible, but the only issue was that they were all 7th years. Prefects were patrolling the hallways later than usual, Peeves was constantly berated by the professors (to the extent where peeves began _denying_ the claims, and the professors honestly believed it),but no one has a clue that it was Tom, as Tom had never casted any concerning spells outside the great hall. Even if he did, no one would notice. 

They did, however, question the spells utilized. It was only from the first year’s curriculum, but Professor Flitwick simply stated that wandless complicated spells were almost physically unable to be carried out by wizards in their school years, so it would make great sense if the trickster started off with the basic jinxes.

Tom found his nicknames amusing. ‘Trickster’, ‘prankster’, he knew that he was _far_ from those aliases, his actions says otherwise, but his intentions does not. He knows that he wasn’t performing these for _pranks,_ that would basically mean that he had sunk as low as his orphanage roommate’s level, but he performs this to learn. And it was working, so there was no reason for him to stop. On top of all that, no one was seriously hurt. 

It was all going very well. But history repeating itself never stopped. Tom’s daily schedule (— _reschedule_ , as he added more affairs involving hexing people) was interrupted by Harry Potter once again.

Perhaps it was Tom’s mistake for associating with one of his friends. Harry was a flagrant Gryffindor, but he has the loyalty matching of a Hufflepuff’s. He would do anything for his friends, and vice versa. Tom found that very sickening.

It was early in the evening, approximately an hour after the students’ last class, everyone was rushing into the Great Hall for dinner, and judging by the crowd, it was the best time to cast the spell. Tom was entertained with the fact that nobody was slightly afraid of the existence of a ‘wandless’ magic practitioner who jinxes the most random of people, their hunger overcame all that fear. Although, most weren’t actually afraid, they were just afraid of the humiliation, as it has become an epitome of embarrassment if one was hit by the ‘prankster’.

Tom didn’t need his wand now. He was fully capable of performing the knockback jinx flawlessly, he walked with his head down, clutching a book about the 1940’s history, and under his robe, his hand followed a particular movement, which exerted a loud,

“Blimey!” From Weasley. (the youngest)

Just like the Finch-Fletchley incident, a chorus of concerned “Ron!”’s were heard of, and following the routine, Tom would only made way into the Slytherin table, as everyone was too engrossed in the accident— none took notice of Tom.

But he didn’t.

"Tom! Did you see what happened?” A hand had gotten hold of a small grip on Tom’s shoulder. 

“No. I didn’t.” Tom said monotonously. He was attempting to keep a straight face, hiding any form of shock from the sudden conversation, but as Harry had caught him off guard, his response was notably odd. 

Thankfully, Harry only gave him a strange look and went back to Weasley to bring him to Madam Pomfrey for any checkups.

 

———————

 

A month or less passed, and Tom did not sight Harry at all (besides occasional classes they share together). After the incident with Harry, Tom only hexed two people and then momentarily stopped his antics. He was paranoid. He couldn’t forget Harry’s look on his face, and that face was a face of suspicion. He did not want Harry to gain a lead in this investigation, and let his image be destroyed— Dumbledore already _disliked_ him from the start, and proving himself to correspond with Dumbledore’s accusations of him was far from what he preferred. 

Tom had to admit that he did went too far than what he intended to do. He only wanted to master the spells learnt, and train his wandless magic for a while, but his intentions went astray and he started hexing for sport. He enjoyed it, hurting people, humiliating them, though he labelled that enjoyment under ‘enjoyment for gain of knowledge’,he knew that that wasn’t the case. He was able to establish a sense of dominance in Hogwarts, just like he did in the orphanage, but it was better here, as he was able to show off his speciality despite everybody else being able to do magic.

However, the whole evil spirits rumors did not die down. It was still a topic of conversation, Tom heard the Padma Patil bringing up a theory that the spirit was only resting for a while, but will bring upon greater dangers once it awakes. Tom found himself to be _flattered_ by these remarks. 

Especially when the Slytherins were talking about him. 

“Do you think it’s a student or an actual spirit around these halls?” Tom heard Nott speak up. He was pretending to sleep, as none of his roommates had any actual conversation with him around (or awake). 

“It would be preposterous if it was a spirit. Our old, stupid, so-called greatest wizard alive headmaster can’t detect it?— Wait, if it was a student, the case would be the same. The dense Dumbledore’s not _strong_ enough to catch students playing simple pranks?” Malfoy responded. It was typical that he would immediately direct the conversation to Dumbledore somehow, but Tom was offended with the term ‘simple pranks’. Wandless magic was _not_ simple, every wizard in the world knows that.

“But thanks to this… creature, everyone now knows how incompetent Dumbledore is. And it’s smart enough to stay away form the Slytherins.”

_Not for long_ , Tom smirked.

“Isn’t it a bit scary? A spirit around Hogwarts, what if it’ll actually awake and destroy Hogwarts?” Zabini questioned. “And I wonder what it looks like, maybe it’s not only invisible, what if it has horns, red skin, eyes, and some twisted features?”

“Good. Now mother would finally allow me to enroll in Dumstrang. And it’s probably hideous if it doesn’t want to show its face.” Tom heard a small strain of fear in Malfoy’s voice.

“Whatever it is, it’s probably terrifying.” Nott admitted.

“Yeah, I hope it’ll go away soon.” Added Zabini.

After the small discussion came to an end, Tom could only feel great satisfaction. He was a threat to all, he does have an urge to show it off and show everyone his abilities, but he had to restrain that urge. It would be foolish of him to blow a cover he _just_ created. It was almost Christmas anyway, and once people returned from their families, they would forget all about what happened. Tom expected that, but the students forgot about the issue for another reason.

The youngest seeker in centuries was crowned.

Harry Potter. He stopped Tom’s reign of fear by creating a reign of worship. Everyone around Hogwarts congratulated him on his new position, he was showered with praises, compliments, admirations, and he was _only_ a first year. Tom was jealous. His whole image was undercover, and Harry’s wasn’t, so it was only Harry who was deluged with attention, not him. 

So of course, Tom already began devising a plan. He wasn’t planning on taking the seeker position alongside Harry, (he hated flying classes despite being more than decent in it), but he was ready to show off his capabilities in another way— academics. He was ready to develop his original goal into a larger one. He knew what to do, he would simply act as a more polite Granger, offering solutions in a very bashed and humble manner, students would _beg_ him for help, and teachers would continuously praise him. He was incredibly ready to undergo his plan, but after the winter break though, he would use that break for intense sessions of studying.

But Tom slipped. He didn’t notice the spectacled boy staying for winter break and watching him levitate five books at once without a wand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I'm forgetting something.


End file.
